


Artists Eyes

by Teapots_and_Teacups



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Artist Reader, F/M, Minor Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-23 22:45:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14942786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teapots_and_Teacups/pseuds/Teapots_and_Teacups
Summary: Yaku was used to being ignored on the court.You were drawn to him. You couldn't help but look at him.





	Artists Eyes

Yaku shoved the dirty uniforms in the nurse’s laundry machine with a sigh. It was always him that washed the uniforms. Always him that hung them out to dry. Always him that folded them neatly. Always him that did any minor repairs. With a click he closed the door and checked the settings. At the push of a button the washer sprung to life and got to work. 

“I really should get the 2nd or 1st years to do this now...” He mumbled to himself, thinking ahead to after he retired from thee volleyball club. He had about 30 minutes before the uniforms would be clean and he would have to come back to hang them up. He wandered over to the window to close it before leaving. Something caught his eye. The art club was outside, drawing something, probably the school or something. The art club had a lot of female members, and Yaku let himself day dream for a moment that one would decide to come be the manager for the volleyball club, or better, fall head over heels for him. He sighed, letting the dream fade and shut the window. He jogged down the hall and towards the gym where everyone was waiting.

\----------

“So, it’s about time for that again.” Kuroo announced when Yaku returned.

“Ah, that.” Kai laughed. “Do we have to restrain Yamamoto again?”

“Again?” Inuoka asked.

“Eh? Ah, right.” Kenma mumbled. 

“The art club has it’s first, in-school, competition of the year coming up.”Kuroo explained.

“It’s so they can assess the 1st years.” Yaku commented, glaring at Lev. He still sucked at receiving despite all the benefits nature had given him. 

“And they basically get free run of the school for 2 weeks.” Kuroo continued. “They spend a day or two scouting out the clubs, seeing if inspiration hits, then stick to that club like a dog to a bone.”

“Don’t dogs bury bones?” Kenma muttered.

“Shh. Last year Yamamoto basically scared off all the girls.”

“I did not!”

“You asked each and everyone of them to date you as they showed up.”

“Yeah but-”

“No buts.”

\----------

You pondered over the list of clubs, adding a little doodle next to each. In your 1st year you’d gone to the soccer club, and in your 2nd you’d gone for swimming. Neither piece had won, but you’d recieved decent praise and suggestions for this year. You’d crossed them both off immediately. You knew you didn’t have to decide now, that you had the first few days to check out the remaining clubs, but you couldn’t wait to get started. 

\----------

The track and field club had been a dud, as had the science club and the baseball club. Next on your list and the last one for the day was the volleyball club. You stepped up into the gym and looked around. There were a few others already there, watching as the volleyball club played through a practice game with their members jumbled up. You walked around the edge of the gym eyeing all the members up as prospective subjects. You didn’t really know anything about volleyball except that those who played it were usually giants like basketball players. You settled in, watching as the ball was received and then hit back over the net.

Yaku watched as another rally played out, it was a long one. Everyone was on good form today, but Yamamoto was getting tired from near continuous spiking all practice. They’d not really let him have a break as to try to wear him out and keep him from coming on too strong to any female guests. The art club members had drifted in and out all practice, no one particularly seeming interested. Before he could continue his train of thought he was called into the game. 

He was shorter than everyone else, that much was obvious. And his bib didn’t have a number, just the letter “L”. Curious, you focused in on him. He caught almost everything that came his way. While the volleyball club as a whole were cat like, baring the energetic 1st year, he was something else. Cat’s stalked their prey, fast and flexible. He on the other hand was a master at being invisible even when in plain sight. He was just there. You pondered him and his role. 

He could feel the eyes on him, chasing him as he moved about the court. It was a weird feeling. He was used to being ignored on the court thanks to his teammates being more than capable at recieving. When he realised that it was no one on the court staring at him, he let himself relax slightly. One of the art club members. Of course. He switched off and on the court multiple times, but the feeling of being watched never really left him.

“Ah? You’re still here?” Kuroo asked snapping you out of your focus. “We’re about to clean up.”

“Oh, sorry. I got so into watching the game.” You flushed, embarassed that you’d barely noticed the game come to a close. You had no idea how many points volleyball went up to.

“You’re the last one, everyone else left already.” Kai added. You glanced around, he was right. You were the only one left from your own club.

“Ah, thank you.” You dropped into a shallow bow. “It was interesting.”

“Thanks for coming.” Yaku chimed in.

“Thanks.”

“Thank you.” The various members called out their thanks too fast for you to really follow who was talking.

“I’ll leave you to tidy up then.” You smiled. “Thank you again.” You left the gym quickly, an idea had sprouted in your mind already. You just needed to grasp at it before it grew out of control. 

\----------

“She’s here again.” Kenma said, looking over to the door. You were slipping into your gym shoes. While yesterday you’d come in your uniform, today you’d changed into the regulation gym kit so that you could be more comfortable. 

“Our sempai.” Yamamoto said to himself.

“Ah, thank you for yesterday.” You bowed your greeting, your tote swinging at your side. 

“Welcome.” Kuroo blinked. “You found a subject?”

“I did.” You beamed brightly, the boys felt their hearts skip a beat. “I just have to focus my idea into a piece.”

“Do you want a chair or something?” Yaku asked. “We can get one for you if you want.”

“Ah, no. Thank you.” You held up your hands in polite refusal. “I want to be able to move around.”

“Shout if you need something.” Yaku added with a shrug.

You started near where the coaches usually sat, eyes scanning the court as a whole as they warmed up and worked through some drills. While not the most interesting thing to watch for most people, you drank in the way they moved. You even sketched out some disembodied limbs, noting how the muscles stretched and contracted. Every so often, you’d frame out one of the members, making a note of roughly how tall they were compared to the net or door frame. But it was next to impossible to tell who was who.

“We’re about to do some serve and receive practice.” Kai called over to you. “You should be careful about where you sit.”

“Ah, thanks.” You called back, closing your sketchbook for a moment. You shuffled off to the side and watched a round of serves. While interesting, your chosen subject happened to be on the other side of the net. When they switched up the players, baring the two libero’s as you now knew them to be, you darted over to Kuroo.

“I have a request.” You said quickly. He raised his eye brow at you. “I need to be in the middle of the court.”

“That’s a dangerous place to be.” He frowned.

“I know. But I need that angle, looking on from the sides isn’t helping.” You said firmly.

“I can’t promise you won’t get hit.” He knew without even trying that it was a loosing battle. He could see fire in your eyes. 

“It wouldn’t be the first time I got hit with a ball.”

“Uh... is this really okay?” Shibayama stammered. You’d positioned yourself roughly in the middle of the court, just on the receiving side of the net. But you weren’t facing the servers. You were facing the receivers. You had a sketchbook open and and the ready, your pencil already in hand. 

“Just try not to hit her.” Kuroo announced. “And you three don’t stumble over her.”

“Oss!” Everyone called out and another round began. You sketched furiously as they received, arms, legs, knees, expressions. All of it. And it was over far too soon.

“Holy crap.” Yamamoto said sharply. You looked up so see him hovering over you. “That’s amazing that you can see all that.”

“I burn it into my brain for a moment. It’s like lightning.” You explained vaguely. “It’s hard though.” You rubbed your eyes.

“Here.” A damp towel was thrust at you. Yaku, the older libero, was in front of you. “You were barely blinking. I’m guessing you get eye strain a lot.”

“Ah, that’s right.” You said quietly, accepting the towel. 

“Take a break, we will too.” He said. You got to your feet and walked off to the side. He’d even got an extra chair out for you next to the coaches. You flopped down and leaned back so that you could lay the towel over your eyes. It was nice and cool. You cracked a smile.

“Are you enjoying the practice?” Came the voice of an old man, you assumed that it was the older of the two coaches. You raised your hand to move the towel. “No, no. Leave it there, you need to rest your eyes.”

“I am.” You answered. “I’ve already learnt a lot. I just need to practice getting it down on paper.”

“I see. You’re quite taken with the receivers.”

“As far as I can tell, without them there isn’t really any volleyball.”

“A smart one.” You could see him grinning in your mind. “Our libero, Yaku-kun, is particularly good. He has to be.”

“Because everyone is good at receiving.” You smiled. “Well, barring the tall lanky one.”

“Lev has just started.” The coach conceded. “Why don’t you practice with him? Yaku coaches him in receiving.” This time you removed the towel and look at the old coach. 

“I can do that?”

“Just for a short while Ms...”

“[L-name, name]” You answered.

“Yaku-kun, Lev-kun.” Nekomata called out. The two dashed over looking slightly refreshed after their break. “[L-name]-san will be joining you in your receiving practice.”

“Awesome.” Lev grinned while Yaku flushed. 

“Let’s go.” Yaku snapped at the younger boy. “Come on.” He was much less harsh in tone to you. 

Yaku walked you through the basics of an underarm receive, how to position your arms and how to position yourself under the ball. He thought he’d managed not to blush too badly when he had to reposition your arms a few times, but sniggers from Lev told him that he was definitely red somewhere. Maybe it was his ears. He was supposed to be fine around girls, he had a sister after all. But things weren’t going too badly until Lev managed to send a ball directly towards your face. Yaku moved like lightning, getting his arm between you and the ball. Even though he was the shortest member of the team, his back in front of you as you cowered looked particularly broad. 

“Oi, this is why you have to do it properly.” Yaku scowled. “What would we do if [L-name] got hurt?”

“Sorry.” Lev dropped his gaze.

“Seriously, she’s better at this than you.”

“Yaku-kun?” You called out to him. He spun on his heels. He realised at that moment that he was just barely taller than you, your eye level mere millimetres below his own. “Thank you for the practice. I think it’s better if I watch from now on. I need to think about my piece.” But you were looking up at him through your lashes.

“Ah, sure.” He mumbled. “You’re pretty good for a beginner you know.”

“Thanks.” You smiled as you walked away, you heart pounding from the impromptu rescue from being smacked in the face by a ball. You knew you were right to focus on him. You knew it.

\----------

The problem was how to compose the piece to make him the focal point without just drawing him. He had to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time. He never exuded the “come to me” presence that you felt from the other players towards the ball. You were gaining multiple rough sketches of him, but nothing that seemed to be coming together.

“You coming princess?” Kuroo called from the door of club room. You’d stopped nearby, waiting for someone to come out, when you’d started to question yourself.

“Ah, I can’t. I have to go to the library today. Extra research.” You made your excuse. It even happened to be true. You just didn’t really want to admit that you were going to look up species of cat.

\----------

An ocelot. Was it really that simple? A large, ground based, feline hunter in the Brazilian rainforests who excelled at almost never being seen. They were beautiful animals, with strong colours and markings that blurred your focus when paired with the twilight hours in which they liked to hunt. It hit you, there was a photo of an ocelot getting ready to pounce, staring down the lens of the camera. The eyes were the same as Yaku’s. Fierce without drawing attention. You dropped the book open on the desk. You had it, the ocelot guarding the court.

\----------

“Yaku-kun!” You ran into the gym, forgoing your gym shoes and sliding on the floor. “I need a favour!” 

“Eh? What?” Yaku exclaimed as you nearly barrelled into him. 

“I need you to receive again.”

“We do that every day.”

“No, like... ugh.” You shook your head to try and clear your thoughts. “Please, just can we?”

This time, Yaku was sure you never blinked at all. Not even once. You were only looking at him as he received. At first it had been distracting, but eventually a rally had started to play out and he got disconnected from your eyes. As you’d requested, he never left the court. It was exhausting. By the time it was over, you had a number of decent sketches to use as reference. Yaku flopped onto the floor, spread eagle style, panting. You crawled over to him from where you’d sat on the court.

“Thank you.” You said softly, poking his hand. He curled his fingers around yours. He was barely aware of his fingers moving, they’d just spent so long curled up in a fist for the underarm receives.

“You owe me.”

“I do, how about some juice?” You suggested. 

“Throw in something to eat and you have a deal.”

\----------

When he’d come out of the club room, you were waiting.

“Let’s go.”

“What?” He asked.

“To get something to drink.” You smiled.

“I was-”

“I know. But I’m gonna do this regardless. Besides, I want you to see my idea.”

\----------

You both sat on a bench at a nearby park. You’d bought drinks for you both and snagged him a few snacks from a convenience store on the way. He quickly scarfed down one of the smaller snacks before washing it down with half the water. He switched to the juice after that, putting the remainder of the water in his bag. You held out the larger of your sketchbooks for him.

“It’s the last page. I started planning it out last night.” You explained, suddenly nervous. He took the book from you and flipped through to the last page in use. It was a giant sketch, of a large cat with markings reminiscent of the volleyball club uniform. But the pose reminded him of something, it felt familiar somehow. “It’s you.” You words brought it all into focus. It was him, waiting, guarding. He realised there were odd lines scratched horizontally and vertically. It was a rainforest scene, but also an overgrown court.

“I feel... honoured.” He said slowly, drinking in the sketch. He wasn’t prowling, he was waiting. Patient and expecting.

“I won’t do it if you don’t like it, since everyone in school will see it.” He suddenly felt overwhelmed. He wasn’t used to the attention. “But... I’d still like to paint it, even if I don’t enter it the competition.”

“You...”

“You are so fierce. I think you deserve to see that.”

Silence washed over you both.

\----------

He’d given his approval a few days later, but on the grounds that he was allowed to come and see your progress now and then. The time when you were free to gather your references was suddenly over, and you returned to your separate worlds for now.

\----------

You were staying late again, having convinced the teacher to let you stay for just another 30 minutes while the colours were still wet on the palette. Yaku rapped on the door frame to get your attention. 

“Hi.” You said, glancing around your canvas.

“Hey, we just finished up.” He said, wandering over. It had taken you three days to transfer the sketch to the canvas, and now you were making the rainforest blossom with all the shades of green and brown that he thought could exist. 

“It won’t start to look like much for another few days.” You commented, adding a few more strokes between words. “I didn’t think you’d come this soon.” You sat back, letting your eyes adjust.

“Here. I figured you’d be overdoing it.” He held out a carton of juice for you. There were two in fact, one for each of you. “I’ll keep you company for a bit. You could use a break.” You rubbed your eyes, nearly jabbing yourself with the end of the brush. 

“Let me just use up this colour.” You said. But he took the brush from you.

“Where does it go?” He asked, adding paint to the brush. 

“Sit here.” You stood and guided him to sit down. “Just follow my movements.” You leaned around him, lightly holding his hand. You tried to ignore the heat that bloomed around you both. You led him through a few careful strokes before letting him paint on his own. When he was done he looked up at you. You were smiling softly, gazing at the patch he’d somewhat sloppily applied paint to. An urge came over him. He carefully poked your cheek with the brush, leaving a green blob on your face.

“Yaku-kun!” You jumped.

“You’re supposed to pay attention to the real thing, not the painting.” He said with a grin. You rubbed at your face with your fingers, it was still wet. You lunged for him, managing to connect your fingertips to his cheek. You laughed, a clear sound in his ears. You both playfully reached for each other with messy fingers before he managed to stop your hands completely, holding your wrists.

“I always think about the real thing.” You said, looking right at him. You both froze. You thought about him for sure, he was burned into your mind because of your piece. But he lingered at the edges of your mind when you weren’t working. Not how you could express him on the canvas, but how he was. You flushed suddenly and took a step back from him. “I should clean up.” You weren’t the only one who was blushing. 

“I’ll help you.”

“Ah, it’s okay.”

“But it’ll take you a while right?” Yaku insisted, he didn’t want to leave. Not when he needed to understand what had just happened, why his heart was pounding against his ribcage. “Let me help you.” It took a few minutes for a conversation to start up, and of course it was about your piece. You were both disappointed. 

\----------

Yaku didn’t stop by again for a week. And when he did, you guided him through some brush strokes as before. But this time, he didn’t attack you with the paintbrush. 

“Is this how you see me?” He asked, adding red to a flower.

“It’s one interpretation. The one I think... no. The one I want everyone to see.” You explained as you watched.

“Hm?”

“You deserve to be noticed.”

“I think it’s best not to be, as a libero.”

“No, by the crowd.”

“I don’t mind if they don’t.”

“Then why are you letting me submit this?”

“Because this is the me that you see.”

“Yaku-kun?”

“I just want to know what that looks like.”

“I just see you.”

“It’s an ocelot.” He dead paned.

“It’s an interpretation.” You laughed. When he smiled back at you, you continued. “So, what would I be then?” You took the brush from him carefully and mixed up a new colour, a different shade of red. More of a carmine. “Add this to the flower in the top left. Inside the petals.”

“Well of course a cat.” He grinned. You rolled your eyes at him. “Maybe... what’s that desert fox?” He pulled out his phone and googled quickly. “Fennec?”

“Are you saying I have big ears?” You asked mockingly, handing him the pallet and brush. “Just paint.”

“No. Cute in that weird way.” 

“Yaku Morisuke, didn’t your mother teach you not to tell lies?” You asked. 

“Fine. You’re cute. And totally not weird for hiding out in the art room all the time.” You froze. It had to be a lie, some sort of prank. The other volleyball members would jump through the doorway at any moment. “[L-name]?” When you didn’t answer he stood and made you face him. He was so close. You couldn’t say anything. “[L-name]? You okay?”

“Paint fumes.” You panicked, picking the most convenient excuse. You couldn’t telling him you were screaming internally. “Dizzy.”

“Sit by the window. I’ll clean up. Just wait okay?” He led you over to the window with light, guiding hands and sat you down. You let him, you were reeling internally. When he was done, he escorted you out of school and back to the park when you’d treated him before. This time it was his treat. He didn’t push the cute thing. But he couldn’t help but think you were.

\----------

“Yaku-kun!” You shouted as you slid across the gym floor. You’d somehow managed to run out of your school slippers and straight into the gym. You nearly barrelled into him and Kuroo.

“What?” He caught your arms and got you to hold still. Another week had been long enough to erase the akwardness.

“I need your help!”

“I get that. With what?”

“Your eyes!” You exclaimed. “I can’t get the colour right!”

“Ala.” Kuroo smirked. “You’d best help her after practice.”

“Is that okay? But the art room is closed today.” You thought aloud. They were doing maintenance on the AC units. “Ah! Come to my house.” Somehow you’d moved your arms and now your hands were holding his. “Please!”

“Could the married couple please hold off being all lovey dovey until after practice?” Kuroo drawled, knowing it would get under the libero’s skin.

“We’re not- Shut up.” You were far too pumped up on adrenaline and excitement to notice just how much Yaku was blushing or what the captain had implied.

\----------

“This is really weird [L-name]-san.” Yaku did his best not to stammer as your own face was mere centimetres away from his own. 

“I need to get this right.” You said, sitting back down on your heels to try out another colour blend. “They’re... an interesting shade.”

“You mean difficult.”

“I mean interesting.” You frowned, still not right. “Hold still.” You leaned in again, drinking in the colour you saw. You spent a few more minutes mixing and trying various shades. Eventually you had a pallet that, when you held it up to his face, could be blended together to represent the various shades you could see in his eyes.

“Well?” He asked, his eyes were dry from trying not to blink.

“We did it!” You cheered. You threw your arms around his neck and hugged him. “God, thank you, Yaku-kun.” You expected him to be pleased, but not for him to hug you back. His arms were warm around you. His hands were gripping the fabric of your shirt. “Yaku-kun?”

“My reward.” His voice was muffled, buried in your shoulder. “Your eyes are so intense.”

“Sorry.” You pulled back from him and he let his hands slip down your arms to rest on your own hands. “I... can’t help it. I have to take everything in.”

“For your piece.” He couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice.

“Because once it’s done I won’t have an excuse to look at you any more.” Those intense eyes that had been scrutinising him so confidently moments ago were downcast and shy. 

“You...” 

“So I have to remember everything no-.” His arms were suddenly around you again.

“Don’t.” He pleaded. “You don’t have to remember everything. Keep looking at me. Everyday.” You leaned into his embrace. “I don’t care about everyone seeing the me you see, I just want you to see me.”

“Yaku-”

“I’ll be a crappy boyfriend. I’ve got club practice almost everyday as well as doing all the stuff managers would do, then I have to keep an eye on my sister. That’s before I even think about studying for entrance exams.” The words spilled out. All the excuses. “But-”

“I’ll be a crappy girlfriend.” You jumped in. “Always in the art room, always staring at something. I can’t cook much more than curry and rice. And I have to study too. We’ll be a crappy couple. A crappy happy couple.” You snorted at your own joke. 

“Sounds good.” 

“You mean that?” You felt him move, then lips on your forehead.

“Does that answer your question?”

“...no.” He smiled, and this time kissed you properly. 

“How about now?”

\----------

He liked to pretend that you always chose to wait for him. Not that you would get so into painting that you’d forget about the time. You liked him coming for you, pouting that you never noticed him arriving. You always felt his presence in the room though. He’d kiss you then, dragging you away from your piece quite literally at times, and he’d sit with you in his lap until you finished for the day, sometimes dozing off against your back. You would try not to wake him, but of course you would have to so that you could clear up. There would be one last goodbye kiss before you parted.

\----------

And so things continued until the day finally came. You showed up to club practice.

“[Name]?” Yaku asked, jogging over to you. “Is everything okay?”

“Definitely.” You grinned. You leaned around him, looking for the captain. “Kuroo-kun? Can I borrow Morisuke for like, 5 minutes?”

“As long as we get him back without any damage.” Kuroo agreed flippantly, smirking at the blush that had crept up Yaku’s neck and to his ears. 

“Let’s go.” You smiled.

\----------

“It... it’s me.” Yaku stammered. The piece was finished, standing at just under 4 foot hight and 2 foot wide. It made him feel all sorts of things that he couldn’t quite put into words. He squeezed your hand tightly. “I can’t really believe that everyone’s going to see this. What’s the title?”

“I don’t know yet.” You admitted, leaning against him. “I was hoping you could help me with that. Once we name it, it’s done.”

\----------

The entirety of the volleyball club looked on in awe. They could see it instantly. It was their Yaku, their Libero, immortalised in paint and hanging for all to see. It would be a little harder for everyone else at school to see it, but for them it was like he was standing in front of them. 

“The protection of the Libero.” Kuroo read aloud from the small sign next to the piece. “Damn, she even used the Mori of Morisuke to name the thing.” He was of course refering to the kanji of Yaku’s name and it’s meaning of protective help. 

“That much focus is creepy.” Kenma muttered. 

“She asked me to name it.” Yaku jumped into the conversation from behind them. “She changed the kanji though.”

“How cool is that.” Yamamoto commented.

“Have people worked out that it’s you?” Lev asked.

“A photo of all the subjects is in the pamphlet next to the pieces. I’m one of the few who are alone in a piece.”

“That’s so awesome.” Inuoka beamed. 

\----------

As the school was voting, he found you on the roof. 

“So you’re gonna wait up here?” He asked, making you turn to face him. 

“I was embarassed. And they didn’t want us to influence anyone.”

“Yeah I wasn’t allowed to vote either.” He joined you, standing close enough to press his arm against yours lightly. 

“Mori?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s cold up here.” Without another word he put his arm around you and pulled you close, right into the nook of his arm. He felt you slip your own arm around his waist under his blazer. Being so close made his heart race. He summoned his courage and kissed your cheek. 

“Let’s stay here just a little bit.” He said. “Just for a bit.”


End file.
